Pain
by prophesygirl47
Summary: Irina POV - reflections on her life, especially her childhood
1. Prologue

Prologue  
  
I lay alone in the harshness of my cell, my eyes are closed. I dare not sleep but it is better that anyone watching me through the surveillance cameras thinks that I do rest, otherwise they may suspect that I am planning something. The coldness of the room does not bother me as much as it used to, nor does no longer being able to tell weather it is day or night. I have been alone for hours, maybe days, I no longer know the passing of time. ItÕs as if time stands still. I do not mind though, for the quiet gives me time to think, to remember.  
  
It is as I lay there that I am able to recall many memories of my life, no, lives. For if you were to truly inspect my history you would find that I led many different lives, each remarkably different. In my lifetime I have had many personalities, and now it is hard to distinguish which of those was true, and which were false. Looking back on it now, each life, each personality was so different, and yet one thing remained the same in all of them, pain, there was always pain. Whether or not I allowed it to be seen, it was always there. Perhaps things could have turned out differently, or maybe somehow no matter what I did, I was ultimately doomed. Sometimes it seems that I was destined to see nothing but pain and death in my life. That I am cursed somehow to an existence based solely on deception. If I am ever to escape the lies, to see the truth, this I know not, for if there is any good in this world, I have yet to see it.   
  
But somehow through it all I have survived. I wonÕt pretend to be proud of my past actions, not now that IÕm all alone with no one but myself. But I survived, I did what I had to do to survive, to stay alive. IÕm strong, I know that, but if IÕm so strong then how come when ever I have a moment to myself I am haunted by my past? If IÕm so strong then why am I always hiding, hiding behind a mask of cold indifference?   
  
These are my secrets, this is my story. 


	2. Chapter 1a

Chapter 1  
  
I can remember my childhood well, it was not a happy time for me, but perhaps it is the only time I can remember when I was really hopeful. It was then that I promised that I would make something of myself, that I would rise above my circumstances, that I would become someone who was strong and respected. I foolishly vowed that one day I would be powerful, that one day people would answer to, and look up to me, and above all I vowed that I would allow no one and nothing to hold me down. I did not know then that my life would become what it is now, I did not mean for it to. I wanted to be happy, but instead all I have is loneliness and pain. It is a horrible type of existence, to survive but only by feeding off the life of others, to survive only by destroying everything I touch.  
  
I was six when I started on this path. My family had very little money and we moved around a lot but it wasnÕt until my younger sister died that things really started to fall apart. It was almost as though my mother had died with her. She stopped going out, she stopped doing things, she stopped living. My father began drinking and ended up losing his job. I can still remember watching from behind a door only halfway cracked open as my father beat my mother while in one of his drunken rages. I can remember hiding under my bed for fear that he may decide to take his anger out on me. I can remember nights in which I cried myself to sleep feeling as though the whole world was against me and wondering if I would ever be able to survive. It wasnÕt long though before I stopped crying myself to sleep, crying is a sign of weakness I told myself, if I want to survive I have to be strong.  
  
One night, after beating my mother senseless, my father decided to come after me. But unlike my mother I would not submit to his beatings, I fought back. I flailed my arms and my legs in a hopeless attempt to injure him, I bit and I scratched trying so hard to inflict even a fraction of the pain he was inflicting on me. It was a doomed attempt from the start, I was only an eight year old child, he was a full grown man. But I continued fighting, I fought even though every muscle in my body began to ache, even though my body was torn and scratched and bleeding, I fought even though the pain was almost blinding, even though I wanted nothing more to collapse and cease to exist. I fought him until finally he tired of beating me and left me almost unconscious on the floor. 


	3. Chapter 1b

I continued to lay there for the rest of the night. My wrists were badly bruised, my legs and arms were heavy with pain, my body was covered in dark red blood and deep purple bruises. I couldnÕt move, it hurt to breathe. I was so overcome with pain, I felt so sure that I would die. But I didnÕt die, I survived, I became stronger. I can remember thinking ÒIf I just make it through this, I can survive anythingÓ But things did not get easier for me, they got harder, and in my attempts to survive I only ended up hurting myself, I ended up allowing myself to harden, I began pushing my emotions away into tidy little boxes in my mind. This didnÕt fix anything, it only made things worse and looking back at it now it was probably my first mistake.   
  
No matter how bad things get they can always get worse. That is a lesson I quickly learned. For as much physical pain as I was in that night it doesnÕt even compare to the psychological pain that now weighs so heavily on my soul. The pain that comes from having to have deceived the two people in this world that I care most about, the pain that comes as a price for my survival. It is a bitter price to pay for what is the point of survival if you must destroy the lives of others to achieve it. 


	4. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
  
Eight years later , when I was 16, my father died of a heart attack. I felt no grief or sadness. He was out of my life forever and I was glad. I donÕt know why I even bothered to go to his funeral, perhaps I just needed to be sure he was gone so that I knew he couldnÕt come back to haunt me. It was a cloudy day, I remember it well, not because it was my fatherÕs funeral, no, I remember it well because it was the first time I saw them. Three men, all dressed in black suits, their faces emotionless, their eyes cold, and their movements stiff. They were the most horrible men I had ever seen. They stood off on their own, watching me from a distance. I can still remember the feel of their icy glare fixated on me. It was a glare that would send shivers up anyoneÕs spine. But I didnÕt let them see my discomfort, I refused to let them weaken me. Instead I turned around and looked straight into their eyes. I stood there as if to challenge them, refusing to blink, refusing to move, forcing myself not to back down. They stared back at me for what at the time seemed like an eternity and then they turned and walked away.   
  
I can remember feeling triumphant, feeling as though I had won, I had made them go away. But they didnÕt go away. Not really. After that I could feel their eyes on me everywhere, I didnÕt always see them, but I knew they were there, watching me like a cat watching itÕs prey, watching me and studying me. It was an uneasy feeling, knowing your being watched yet not knowing why. For weeks this continued, and soon the weeks turned into months and I was becoming more and more aware of their presence. I remember now so clearly the thoughts and questions that flooded my mind. ÔWho are these men? what do they want from me? why are they following me?Õ I thought then that if I could just figure this out it would all be over. I remember wanting nothing more then to find the answers to these questions. I now regret that I ever found them.  
  
Tired of their persistence I decided to take matters into my own hands. 


	5. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
  
I knew from past experiences that if I wanted something I would have to earn it. I couldnÕt expect my problems to take care of themselves. My father kept his gun in a lined wooden box in the third drawer of his desk. I had seen him take it out at night and clean it. He loved that gun. He would pull it out when ever he was mad and point it at me or my mother. He would stand there laughing as we trembled in fear wondering if this time he would pull the trigger. It is an image that is still engraved in my memory and it haunts me to this day. The way he just stood there, laughing, an insane look in his eye as he prepared to pull the trigger, the way he suddenly dropped the gun, his hand clutching at his chest as he fell over, dead of a sudden heart attack. I had been prepared to take the bullet, to die that day. But fate was not done with me, it took him instead. And so it is that twice I should have died at my fathers hand, but didnÕt. Oh how fate loves to toy with me.  
  
After his death, my mother returned the gun to itÕs home. It was better to leave it there and bury the memories with it. Everything else of his remained untouched in his office. It was with great trepidation that I entered this space. It was as though I was afraid that when I opened the door I would see him sitting there cleaning his gun, as though if I disturbed his stuff he would come back to life. But when I opened the door I did not see him there and he did not come back to life.   
  
The room was cold and I shivered as I entered. I turned on the light and the room was lit but only dimly and deep dark shadows fell around the room. I approached the desk and ran my hand over the cold surface, then I knelt on the floor and opened the third drawer on the right. There nestled in the drawer was the wooden box. I lifted it slowly and carefully and set it down on the floor. I hesitated before opening it. I knew that if I lifted the lid I would be face to face with something I feared, with the object that almost killed me. I took a deep breath and tried to prepare myself for what was to come, then slowly I lifted the lid and saw it.  
  
Everyone has moments in their lives which they remember forever. For most people, for people living normal lives, these memories are happy ones, a first kiss, a first love, things which while essentially small are of deep emotional importance. For me however, my happy memories are so outweighed by the bad that they almost cease to exist. The feel of that gun in my hand, that is one such memory. I can feel it now, as solid as the bed I lay upon, I can feel itÕs weight, itÕs coldness in my hand, and shivers run up my spine. I wonder if the CIA is watching me now, I wonder if they notice that the color has suddenly run out of my skin and that IÕm shivering and my hands are shaking wildly. I wonder if they hear the shriek that escapes my lungs as I throw myself up on my bed, my heart racing, my breathing quick and irregular, as though IÕve awoken from a bad dream. 


	6. Chapter 4a

Chapter 4  
  
I stand in an attempt to compose myself but I am still too weak. My feet will not hold my weight. The world around me spins, my head throbs as my legs give in and I fall crashing to the floor. Everything goes black and I fall into a dreamlike state, I am thrown back into my memories.  
  
I am walking down a dark street in my home town. It is the same place where I first confronted my stalkers, I had managed to lure one into a trap then I pulled the gun, my fathers gun, on him demanding he told me why he was following me. I had struggled to maintain my composure, to look like I was serious, I was in truth afraid he might call my bluff. He tried to assure me that he wasnÕt a threat. When I demanded once again that he tell me why he was following me and threatened to shoot, he told me that the KGB was interested in giving me a job. He pulled out a business card with nothing on it but a phone number. ÒCall this numberÓ he said Òand we can discuss things in more detailÓ. With that he disappeared but his words lingered and now they echo in my head. I had continued to stand there for a while in a state of shock before I left. I stand there now, only everything seems so different, so much darker and i see the reflection of myself standing there covered in blood. I try to call out to myself, to my shadow of a memory, try to warn myself. I want to change my past. I want a new life ,a different life and so I plead with my younger self. But there is no one there. I can not bridge the gap between the two worlds no matter how hard I try. I can not change my past. It is useless, I am still bound to the same future. The dark street begins to fade away, It is being burned away by the light as I try to open my eyes in a desperate attempt to wake from this dream, if you can even call it a dream.   
  
ÒWhat is that sheÕs been sayingÓ I hear KendallÕs familiar voice ask, apparently I had been talking in my sleep. ÒI presume itÕs RussianÓ says another voice, one which is unfamiliar and appears to have come from someone right next to me. ÒWell I know that!Ó Kendall replies, he is obviously frustrated. Ò Mr. Kendall, IÕm a doctor not a translator, now if you would please let me do my jobÓ says the other voice. I want to laugh, I can tell that Kendall is probably furious at having to have sent for a doctor to check on me. I open my eyes only slightly but I quickly close them again, I am suddenly becoming more and more aware of the pain pounding in my head. ÒMs. Derevko, if you could please, try and stay awakeÓ said the doctor. I know he is right, I should try and not fall back asleep, but itÕs becoming hard not to. I have to force myself to open my eyes again, I can only open them a little, the light is so blinding. I hate that I must look so weak to the CIA right now. I despise not being in control of a situation. Unfortunately I donÕt really have a choice in the matter right now. 


	7. Chapter 4b

Not long ago the CIA wanted me dead, they couldnÕt have cared less if I injured myself, and yet here they are now, sending in a doctor. Well, I guess it isnÕt really me they are interested in, itÕs the information I can provide them with. ThatÕs all. I canÕt really say I blame them. ItÕs not as if IÕve done anything to deserve their concern. To tell the truth, I had half-expected them to have executed me by now, they almost did. I must never forget that. It would be foolish to believe I was anything but disposable the second they have extracted every bit of information from me.   
  
The doctor continues to talk to me, quietly and calmly. IÕm secretly glad to have human contact after being left alone for so long, and itÕs nice to hear someone who sounds genuinely concerned about me. He asks if I remember what had happened and I answer as well as I can without revealing any weakness. I tell him that I simply had a headache and that I felt dizzy and fell. ItÕs not a very good excuse and anyone who had been watching me would have known there was more to it then that, but he doesnÕt question me further. He helps to move me up off the floor and back up to my bed. It is then that I notice that there has been a third person in the room the entire time, Jack. He is standing off in the corner, entirely silent. Knowing that he is there I suddenly feel much more exposed, much more vulnerable.   
  
ÒWell, is she going to live?Ó I hear Kendell say sarcastically. ÒShe should be fine, She might have a minor concussion so it would be best if someone stayed and kept an eye on her.Ó Kendell turns to face Jack ÒI trust you can handle baby-sitting your ex-wifeÓ he says before leaving. Part of me is glad to hear this, it would be nice to not be left alone again quite yet. It would be nice to have something to distract me. Of course at the same time I donÕt really feel that IÕm in any way capable of handling myself right now. I must seem like a child to them in my current state. A weak, defenseless little girl upset by and bad dream. I hate feeling weak and defenseless. ItÕs been decades since I was last in this sort of state. Of course Laura had nightmares, Laura had nightmares all the time. Durring the day I could forget about the lies, forget about the truth of the situation. I was Laura Bistow and Irina Derevko didnÕt exist. But always durring the still quiet of the night, thatÕs when the two personalities struggled and clashed against each other. It is not easy to maintain an alias, to live a lie for such a long period of time. I felt sure I would go mad, perhaps I did. It was Jack that kept Laura alive and as long as he lives I feel certain I will never be able to truly be rid of her. She is why I came back. It was Laura, not Irina that turned herself into the CIA. 


	8. Chapter 4c

ÒWhat happened?Ó I hear JackÕs voice break the silence. I pause for a second wondering how much to tell him. ÒI fellÓ I say knowing that IÕm not really answering his question but feeling too tired to think up an elaborate response that will satisfy him. ÒNo, before thatÓ I nod my head, still avoiding looking straight at him and knowing what he is referring to. He must have been watching me, perhaps he was the one that alerted them of my fall. I know that there is no point in lying to him as he would see through it in a second, I answer truthfully but still reveal little. ÒI had a bad dream.Ó Watching him out of the corner of my eye I catch a faint look of remembrance. Perhaps he still remembers the way in which Laura would wake in the middle of the night startled and restless, always from what she would say was Ôjust a bad dreamÕ. Or perhaps he doesnÕt remember and my mind is simply looking for something that isnÕt there. ItÕs rather hard to tell, Jack has become quite a challenge to read, he wasnÕt always like this. He used to be so much more open, especially around me. It is not easy for me to look at him, to see this broken man who I have wounded so deeply that I feel he may never truly recover. The bits and pieces of Laura which remain still a part of me are screaming at me to do something to heal these wounds which I can not heal. To undo what I had already done and draw away the pain I so cruelly inflicted on the only man who ever really loved me.   
  
I can feel the tears building up in my eyes and as much as try to recall them they will not listen. I shut my eyes and a single tear escapes my grasp and falls to linger on my cheek.  
  
I am drowning. The water surrounding me and crushing me, the quiet is deafening. I am pulled out whether by someone else or by my own strength I know not for I no longer am capable of feeling the world around me. Everything is black and white, the world has turned gray. The colors which once lived have been washed away. I am soaking wet, the water dripping down my body hiding my tears. My so-called saviors can not tell that I am crying. I had tried so hard that day to kill Laura off, but I had underestimated her strength. She was too stubborn, she refused to die, refused to remain buried. And no matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried to forget, no matter how many times I told myself and my superiors that she was dead, she lived. 


	9. Chapter 4d

ÔShe livedÕ the thought echoes throughout my head and the world fades away into darkness. I can hear my name being called but the voice is coming from another world and is too far away, too distant for me to pay it much attention. The voice becomes louder and slightly more panicked. It demands to be heard and wonÕt let me ignore it. I am slowly being pulled back into reality, a reality which I do not wish to reenter for fear of the harsh truth that awaits me there, but I can not avoid it and so slowly I begin to wake myself. I am suddenly aware that someone is very near by, leaning over me. I open my eyes and see that it is Jack. I catch what is perhaps a concerned and panicked look in his eyes and for a split-second I am Laura again.  
  
ÒIrina......Irina, are you all right?Ó I can hear the concern in his voice and there is something incredibly soothing and reassuring about it that makes me want to open up entirely to him. To tell him, no, everything is not all right, that IÕm tired, not just physically, but emotionally, I want to tell him that IÕm sick of the charade that my life has become and that all I want to do is stop being me, that all I want is my life as Laura back. But all IÕm able to bring myself to say is ÒYes, IÕm fineÓ. He looks back at me, obviously not believing what I have just told him. ÒYouÕre cryingÓ he says as though perhaps he can not believe it himself and it is then that I notice the steady stream of tears staining my cheeks. I look down for a second, suddenly unable to face him like this then I return my eyes to his, more tears forming, I am powerless to control them as the salty droplets cascade down my face. I find myself suddenly unable to speak, my voice lost in my throat, not knowing what I would say if I could speak. I am stuck, no longer Irina but unable to be Laura, I am stuck in a sort of limbo, no longer sure of who I am and completely powerless to stop myself from crying.   
  
Being been totally unsure of how he would react I am surprised when he reaches out his hand and wipes the tears from my face with a movement which is incredibly soft. Then sitting down beside me he allows my head to rest on his shoulder. He shouldnÕt be doing this, I donÕt deserve kindness, especially not from him. But, perhaps selfishly, I donÕt really allow myself to think about it right now. Instead I just allow myself to lean into him and try just this once forget everything else that is going on, forget my past, forget the future, and just live in this one moment. 


	10. Chapter 5

Chapter 5  
  
I wonder if he can see my thoughts, if he can tell that all I want right now is to be Laura again, only this time without the lies and the deception which plague and haunt my memories of her life. Even then, even when I was Laura, I could not truly allow myself to fully become her because doing so would have endangered the lives of everyone she ever cared about. Of course I knew this at the time I accepted the mission, but I was too young and naive to have foreseen the truth. I never expected that I would actually fall in love with the man whose secrets I was sent to steal. However, slowly I had gone from simply wearing the mask of Laura to actually becoming her, and in the struggle between the two personalities Laura Bristow had managed to almost entirely kill off Irina Derevko. The KGB obviously saw this as a problem and they worked out a way to test my loyalties.   
  
Jack was away on a mission, I had left Sydney with a sitter while I went out to run some errands. She was only one year old, she would not remember that day, but I have never forgotten it. When I returned home I knew instantly that something was wrong. I ran back to SydneyÕs room and there I saw Curvee, he was standing in the middle of her room, holding her in his arms, an evil smile on his face. She was crying. I felt sick, I wanted to kill him right then and there. ÒItÕs so nice to see you again, IrinaÓ he said as though we were friends ÒI always knew you would produce beautiful offspring.Ó I gritted my teeth, and tried not to look too upset. ÒWhat are you doing here?Ó I asked trying not to let all my hatred come out. He set Sydney down, then spoke ÒIrina, IÕll give you the curtsey of being blunt, some questions have arisen regarding your loyaltyÓ My blood was boiling. ÒCurveeÓ I said looking him straight in the eye, trying to look as though his presence did not anger me the way it did ÒIÕm loyal you know that, in the years I have been here I have provided the KGB with a wealth of information, information I might add that you would not have if it wasnÕt for my loyaltyÓ   
ÒI know this Irina, they know this, but there is fear that you may have fallen in love with Agent BristowÓ Ò What! you honestly believe that I have fallen for that.....that fool.Ó I said trying to sound as though those words did not pain me so much to say. Curvee smiled, he obviously believed me. ÒGoodÓ he said ÒI knew you werenÕt that stupid. None the less, we need more solid proof of your loyalty.Ó ÒWhat do you want?Ó I asked dryly. ÒWe will be sending you a list of names used by CIA officers, we would like you to assassinate these officers.Ó Now I really felt sick, stealing information was one thing, assassination was another. Sure I had killed before, but it had always been in self defense, never premeditated. I knew though that I had to put on a show for Curvee , I nodded ÒVery wellÓ Curvee smiled again ÒI knew you wouldnÕt disappoint us. Oh, and one more thing, I have injected your daughter with a small device, if you do chose to betray us all I have to do is push this little button here on this remote transmitter, and she dies. If you try to remove it or tamper with it in any way, it will be activated immediately. Of course, this is just a precautionary measure, as I donÕt foresee there being any problems.Ó With that he left me. I held Sydney close to me refusing to let go of her and cried for the remainder of the day. 


	11. Chapter 5b

I lived for years in constant fear, my heart was torn. My continued deception became a sort of act of love for my family. I knew that I had to do what I did, no longer for the good of my country but for the safety of my family. I often wonder what would have happened if I had chosen to break down the walls of deception, if I had told Jack the truth. Perhaps Jack could have escaped the KGBÕs persecution, but Sydney, poor innocent little Sydney, she would not have stood a chance. No one would have been able to save her. I knew then that it was more important then anything else to not allow the KGB to see that in my heart I had betrayed them.   
  
When I got the orders that my mission was over, that I was to return home, I was devastated, I did not want to leave my family, but It would have been selfish for me to have stayed. I sacrificed my own happiness, I sacrificed my heart, I sacrificed everything I loved in this world, so that Sydney would have a chance at happiness herself. I did not deserve happiness, Sydney did. I could not let her pay for my mistakes. Of course I had hoped that the truth would not have been found out.   
  
Sitting here now with my head resting on JackÕs shoulder, I suddenly feel more complete then I have felt in years. There is a peace, a calmness which comes over me. I feel at home, this is where I belong. Twenty years ago my heart had stopped beating, I had left it behind, lost it, and now I can feel it beating, I have found it again. The color is returning to my world, the shadows are retreating, the coldness has disappeared, the harshness dissolves into warmth. I can no longer feel my head throbbing or my body aching. All pain has fallen away from my senses. I want to stay here forever, I never want to return to reality. ÒJackÓ I say, my voice barley even a whisper ÒI love you.Ó 


End file.
